The Spider Queen lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. ‘You did not wish to be a perfect mother. Such a thing is, I fear, not possible, even with all the magic from all the wishing wells in all the world. For mothers are human beings too and thus destined to be imperfect.’

‘What a pity,’ Rosa said.

‘Is it?’ The Spider Queen looked quite shocked. ‘If I had ever had a child, I would wish for them to see me work on my flaws and recover from my mistakes. How else are they to learn? My goodness, what a hard thing it would be to grow up beneath the shadow of a perfect mother. No, no, my dear, do not ever wish for that. Wish instead to be a good mother. Perfection has no place in such things. And, now, I must leave you. It was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Warren, and congratulations again. Your carousel is astonishing. I think it will bring much happiness to many people.’ She turned to Beatrice and took both her hands in her own. ‘Good luck. I hope you will find some joy in this life. If you would like to continue to share a little of the garden’s magic with those who need it most in the world, then you can find the names of all those people who are lost and lonely, hurting and heartsore, in the Book of Lost Souls.

‘Where will y-you go?’ Beatrice asked, but the queen was already fading before her eyes like a ghost.

She smiled. ‘Back where I came from, of course.’

The last word was a whisper and then she was gone, leaving only a few threads of sparkling web drifting behind her in the starlight. Beatrice looked up at Rosa.

‘I wish you h-had not h-hurt my trees,’ she said. ‘But I understand that – to m-most people – a ch-child is more important than a p-plant. And you were r-right to stop me r-riding the carousel. It w-would have led to us s-swapping lives. And I c-could not l-love my s-son. I d-do not think I c-could ever be a g-good m-mother, but especially not married to Eu-Eustace …’

‘I understand,’ Rosa said, and Beatrice saw that she did. ‘I understand what it would have been like for you.’

Beatrice nodded and glanced around the clearing. ‘The b-boy,’ she said, and Rosa wondered why she did not use his name, then realised that she did not even know it herself. ‘Is he …?’

‘He’s gone,’ Rosa said. ‘I don’t think he will be coming back.’

Beatrice released her breath in a sigh. ‘Good. That is. Best.’

The tiger padded through the snow to her now and brushed his starlight stripes against her skirt. Beatrice rested her hand upon his head, and Rosa thought it was the first time she had ever seen her friend look at ease in the world.